The Fault in Our Lungs

I had no idea what I had gotten myself into.

Four days later, I ended up in the hospital, where Doctor Jim (my regular doctor) told me I needed more treatments and had an estimated two weeks to live.

The next day, Isaac, Annabelle, and Blaze visited my room.

"You aren't contagious, are you? I don't need to have lung cancer, too," Isaac joked.

It made me smile until I saw Annabelle.

"Hi, Annabelle," I said.

"H-h-hi, Hazel Grace," Annabelle sniffled.

"How's the stars, Blaze?" I asked Blaze.

He refused to look at me. Tears brimmed his eyes, and all my happiness drained from me.

"I-isaac, what is wrong?" I asked.

"Hazel, you're dying. Just like Gus."

"I'm not dying like Gus. HE DIED FROM PROSTATE!"

"Either way, you are dying. Annabelle is sadder than a dog with bone withdrawals. Blaze is back to his stupor. God, Hazel Grace, why do you have to die now?"

"Not my choice."

Isaac started crying. I hadn't seen him cry since Augustus Waters died.

"I know. Damn it. All good is dead!"

"Isaac!"

He ran from the room.

"Annabelle, go after him please," I said.

Annabelle raced out, crying, too.

"Blaze, talk to me."

"You're dying."

"We all are."

"But why can't the cancer get me? Take someone like you."

"Don't ever say that again. Cancer hooked me and you can't change that. You are going to live. Hell, I might not even die in thirteen days."

"R-right."

"Listen, B. If I die, I want to die knowing I made something of my life. You, Annabelle, and Isaac need to carry me on."

"O-okay."

"Okay."

"Let me sleep, Blaze. Go comfort Annabelle and Isaac."

"Bye, Hazel Grace."

"See ya, flame."

Luckily, that night my light didn't go out. My lungs were still crap, I still had tumors, I still had cancer, and I still knew I was absolutely dying in the next two weeks.